Into the Blue
by lonelyava
Summary: Occlumency: Draco Malfoy has always been afraid of trusting others, so the Occlumency lessons he is forced to take with Harry Potter are like torture to him. Together, the two enemies have to reach into the deepest and most secret places of each other's minds. Will Draco finally have someone understand him, or will the pain cause the lonely boy to run away? Self-harm and suicide.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Draco hated the castle sometimes. It was Christmas again and all the halls were shimmering in fairy lights and silver snowflakes. Even the Slytherin dungeons, which were usually so dark and comforting, were putting up a shiny front for the holiday. Draco felt like he was suffocating. His father wouldn't even let him come home that year. Not that the manor was so much better, he thought bitterly. It was just somewhere else. Draco sighed. Outside of the cloudy windows, the sky was pale blue and empty. When he was alone like this, everything didn't hurt so badly. This life, he thought, could almost be alright. But it only lasted a few seconds. The stairwells were filling up with irritatingly happy faces, and somewhere Pansy Parkinson was calling for him. She had been annoying him for days about staying at Hogwarts and spending Christmas with him. Her parents wouldn't let her, and secretly, he was happy. He wished he could, but Draco Malfoy just couldn't fall in love with the only person who'd ever tried to get close. He wished he could steal a broomstick and just fly away, anywhere, it didn't even matter. Somewhere he could be himself. Draco scowled at the vacant sky. Deep down, he knew he didn't have the guts.

The hours slipped away before Draco knew where he was going. The stars fell and he found himself underground, in the Slytherin common room, again. Everyone was having a good time but him. They were talking about the goddamn holidays again. It made him sick. He must have shown it, too, as Pansy half-smiled down at him and asked, "What's wrong Draco?" His head was in her lap and he was watching the rainbow lights flicker over the dungeon ceiling. She ran her hands through his pale hair like he was a pet cat or something. Her hands were warm, but Draco couldn't feel it. He wondered if everyone always felt this disconnected.

"Nothing," Draco muttered, looking away from her eager eyes. "Potter… being a prat."

Why did he always circle back to Harry Potter? Sure, he was a self-righteous dickhead, but sometimes Draco almost missed him. It was disgusting. Maybe, Draco thought, I only miss Potter because I don't have anything else.

"Oh..." Pansy simpered. "And you have to stay here with him and the ugly mudblood for Christmas."

"Yeah…" Draco drawled, raising his wand to the ceiling. He closed his left eye and aimed at one of the pretty fairies. It fell without a sound. Maybe it was muffled by Pansy's soft giggles. He didn't know why, but all of a sudden that girl was the last person in the universe he wanted to be with. Draco sat up quickly and pushed her hand away. "I'm going to bed now."

"Aw, why?" Pansy murmured, pulling at his robes.

"I'm tired." He said, leaving her speechless beside the glowing fire.

That was a lie. Draco just felt so heavy inside. He pulled off his dark clothes and shoved them into the drawers. He struggled into his striped pajamas and curled up beneath the blankets. The room was completely silent. He closed his eyes and saw the next day burn away beneath his lids. It was all too much. Draco realized that he was shaking. It's been a while since he'd cried himself to sleep. He'd forgotten how bittersweet it felt. He was grateful for the velvet curtain around him. No one could see him this pathetic. It'd be better just to die. He couldn't stop the tears though; they were like matches against his skin. He clutched at his white pillow and waited for sleep to carry him away.

Author's Note: This chapters really short so i guess it's more like an introduction. It'll get to Occlumency in the next few, i promise :) Also, if anyone actually reads this, leave a review, I'd really appreciate it. Ok, See ya later.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Draco woke up late. After he rubbed the stale tears from his eyes, he opened the curtains to an empty room. Even Crabbe and Goyle were gone. The air was cold and dusty. He dragged himself into his uniform and headed for the bathroom. The porcelain tiles were almost blinding. He splashed some water on his face and let it trickle down. The redness in his eyes slowly faded away until all that was left was his pale skin and flushed cheeks. Draco thought he looked like hell. That's what this break was going to be: Pure hell.

The few people that stayed around were down in the Great Hall without him. There were pine trees twinkling around the long tables and December sunlight filtering through the stained-glass windows. The place looked like it was expecting some sort of _feeling_ from him. It made Draco nauseous. But he had to look up and stride over to the Slytherin table. Crabbe and Goyle were huddled around his usual spot, looking weirdly guilty. He slammed himself down and scowled at his half-friends.

"Where were _you_?" He asked bitterly.

"Pansy said you were sick." Crabbe spluttered.

"I'm not _sick…_ " Draco spit. "Oh, Great." Draco watched as Potter and his group of friends entered from the gleaming stairwell. They were grinning and talking about things he probably couldn't understand. Draco felt a twinge of envy. Actually, it was more like a burning fire. Potter glanced his way, looking confused and bothered to see him there. Draco smirked back and went back to dragging a silver knife across his plate. He didn't feel hungry; he thought he'd never eat again. Crabbe and Goyle were stuffing themselves with the conjured piles of muffins and strawberries. All the food looked like decorations, redolent ornaments put there to ruin his day. Draco felt a lump rising in the back of his throat.

"I'm going outside." He said suddenly.

"Why?" Goyle asked stupidly.

Draco just shrugged and turned away. His cronies looked to each other, searching for something to say. Draco didn't care. He walked away, trying to stay cool as he slipped past Potter and his gang. He kept his eyes starless, focused on the exit.

Draco hadn't walked around the castle grounds in forever. The snow-covered flowers were more beautiful than he remembered. He decided to visit the lake, just to see it all glassy and frozen over again. Draco left shallow footprints as he stumbled down. The world beside the freezing shore was so quiet. The only sound was Draco's warm breath, which spilled out as a white cloud, drifting up to join the endless blue. He reached out a shaking hand and caught a snowflake on the tip of his finger. It melted right away, and Draco smiled a little to himself. As lonely as he was, he was still alive enough to melt snow.

After what felt like hours, Draco Malfoy heard voices on the horizon. At first, he thought it might be Crabbe and Goyle, coming to see if their Prince had frozen to death or something. But as the drew closer, Draco heard muffled laughter and mocking tones that meant one thing: Potter.

"Oy!" Draco turned to see a red-haired, freckled face glowering down at him from the snowbank. Ronald Weasley. Honestly, Draco hated him more than he hated Potter. He reminded Draco of a blood-traitor version of Crabbe and Goyle. Except he and Potter looked like real friends. It made him resent Weasley so much more. "Malfoys all alone!"

Weasley jumped down and landed with a thud on his once quiet beach. Draco sneered, pushing himself up and rubbing the snowflakes off his cloak. Potter and Granger were still up above, hesitantly trampling down.

"Your bodyguards finally ditch you, then?" Ron grinned.

"No." Draco scoffed. "But you're still following around that filthy mudblood, I see." Sometimes Draco hated the sound of his own voice. He thought he sounded like Pansy. Actually, he sounded like his father. He didn't know which disgusted him more.

"Take that back, Malfoy," Weasley said with venom. All three of them had drawn their wands by that point. Draco smirked and pushed the weasel aside. When did everything get so bitter, he thought to himself. Draco just wanted to curl up and disappear. But he kept a hand wrapped around his wand as he struggled up the snowbank. He was almost over it when he felt a firm hand on his shoulder. Potter's hand.

"Take it back." He said. " _Now_."

"F-Fuck off," Draco muttered.

"I'm warning you, Malfoy," Potter growled.

"Let go of me!" Draco cried, shoving the hand away. As he spun back, he saw Potter's bright green eyes filled his the usual hate. The tip of his wand was pointed straight and Draco's head and all Draco could do was stumble down.

"Stupefy!" Potter shouted. Draco fumbled with his wand, but couldn't get the words out in time. Suddenly, he was falling into the blanketed ground, unable to do a thing. He lay there, spread out on his back, as the snowflakes fell and burned tears into his vacant eyes. He wanted to look away, but there was nowhere to hide. Potter's friends were staring over him, warm colored against the listless sky.

"Serves him right." Weasley jeered.

" _Ron_ ," Granger warned. "We'll get in trouble if we leave him like this."

"But- Did you hear what he called you?"

"That's how Malfoy always is." She told him.

Draco didn't feel too different, paralyzed like this. He had to stay silent as people hurt and hated him. As they pretended to _know_ him. Jokes on them, Draco thought bitterly. No one in his entire life had _ever_ known him.

"Right," Potter muttered, as his dark silhouette came into Draco's view. "I'll unfreeze you, but just so Gryffindor doesn't lose points." He pointed his wand at Draco's chest and muttered. "Rennervate."

Draco sat up, slowly, still feeling a deep pain all over his body. Potter was standing over him, definitely not offering to help him up. He struggled to his feet and tried to find something cutting to say.

"My-" Draco stopped. He didn't have the heart to bring up his father. "Nevermind…"

He turned away, for good this time. No one was going to stop him. The castle, with its yellow glowing windows and icy towers, looked even less welcoming than before he left. Draco blushed. He hated Potter, but even more, he hated himself. Why was he always so weak? As he trudged to the front door, he thought of all the times he'd failed, his infinite regrets. He was so preoccupied he forgot where he was even going. He just wandered around the familiar corridors, until he heard angry voices drifting from a dungeon.

"Severus." One sighed. "In these troubled times, you especially _must_ learn to put aside your personal grudges."

"With all due respect, Professor-" The other said.

"Harry _will_ learn Occlumency." The first declared. "It is imperative. Without it, we will all be in great danger…"

Harry? He must mean Potter, Draco thought. He stopped short and pressed his ear to the cold door. If it involved the _famous_ Harry Potter, it must have been important.

"But-"

"That is final." The was a pause. Then, through the closed door, Draco got the sense the second man was smiling.

" _Ah_ …" He murmured. "It appears we have company."

Without a sound, the door swung open, and Draco fell face first onto the dungeon floor.

"I-I'm sorry, s-sir." Draco stammered, trying to find his balance. Still dizzy, he looked up to see Professor Snape frowning and Dumbledore smiling kindly back.

"No need, Draco," Dumbledore said. "I assume you heard some of our conversation, yes?"

"Well…" Draco deliberated over what do say next. Surely, the headmaster wouldn't do anything to _hurt_ him. But still, he couldn't rely on Dumbledore's good nature. Draco couldn't rely on anyone.

"You heard about Harry Potter?" Dumbledore mused. "And...Occlumency."

"Y-Yes, sir," Draco admitted, after an awkward pause.

"Well, then," Dumbledore said warmly. "I suppose this leaves us no choice. Starting tomorrow, you will be receiving weekly Occlumency lessons with Professor Snape… And Harry Potter."

Author's Note: Thanks to anyone who read this :) I'm really excited to get to the lessons and stuff in the next chapters. School's starting this week, so it might be a few days though. But I'll definitely try to post a new chapter soon. Anyway, see ya


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3-

"W-What?" Draco stammered. Looking around he couldn't tell who was more dumbfounded: Snape or himself. The potions professor was pale-faced, shaking his head at the headmaster in disbelief.

"But, Sir…" Draco heard him mutter. Dumbledore only smiled at Draco and gestured towards a plush ruby armchair. Draco sat down, awkwardly, trying to stay as close to the edge as possible without falling off. "Are you sure this is wise?"

"Quite." Dumbledore said. "I trust Draco, Severus."

He... trusted Draco? For a second, Draco got all warm inside, like listless September afternoon and a pint of firewhiskey. But the moment passed too soon. What did trust mean, anyway? If Dumbledore really trusted him, maybe he could just let him be.

"But- Why?" Draco cried.

"Why what, my boy?"

Draco wasn't going to ask the headmaster why anyone should trust him. He wasn't ready to sound that childish just yet.

"Why do I have to take...O-Occlumency lessons with Potter?"

"Simply put," Dumbledore said softly. "I cannot allow you speak of the conversation you overheard to anyone. I get the feeling that if you are included in these lessons, you will not. Am I correct?"

'I-." Draco mumbled to his clenched fists. " _I thought you trusted me_?" Great… he sounded like a child after all.

"I do," Dumbledore said, eyeing Draco in misty blue. "That is why I believe this will be a good learning opportunity. In many ways."

Draco didn't want to know what the headmaster meant by that. Why did shit like this always happen to him? On top of everything, he had to spend Christmas with Harry Potter, the boy who had stunned him to the snow just a few minutes earlier. It was too much.

"Do you object, Severus?" Dumbledore asked.

"I-" Profesor Snape sighed heavily. "No, I _suppose_ , I do not."

"Then," Dumbledore winked. "The matter is settled."

The night and day seemed to twist into one waking nightmare. Draco spent every moment dreading the next evening, when he would face the Occlumency lesson with Potter, of all people. Draco didn't even know what _Occlumency_ was, but he didn't like the sound of it. He could go to the library and look it up, but he was feeling too paranoid to leave the underground. What if he ran into Potter? It'd be awkward and painful. It was his fault he'd gotten into these lessons, after all. He thought about sending an Owl to his father, asking him to fix this mess, but he remembered that his father didn't seem to want him anymore. He couldn't even come home for Christmas. He was so alone.

Draco was so tired, he couldn't sleep. He stayed up all night, watching his wand light flicker over the velvet ceiling. Under the blue glow, Draco looked pale and so thin. He was like a living ghost. The only trace of color came from the pink ribbon scars that wrapped around his wrists. In pajamas, all his body's secrets were shining away. Draco hated it. The last time he cut himself was a week ago when Harry Potter punched him after that Quidditch match. It had hurt so badly. His eyes had filled with hot tears, and all the angry faces turned into blurry stars. His twisted pride hurt more than anything. All the Slytherins were staring as he walked by, like they had expected more from him. When did anyone learn to expect anything from him, he wondered. He hadn't ever done anything. The shame was too much. He hid inside his bed and let the blood say the things he never could. The pain was his only escape. It was a paradox, like him. Both a punishment and a reward. Something no one could ever see. In the morning, he pulled up his heavy sleeves and faced the world with a usual, callus look.

The evening came much too fast. Draco had just been skipping breakfast when the sun was slipping into the lake and he was stumbling down to the dungeons. He hadn't seen Potter all day, which was a relief. Maybe he wouldn't have to see him ever again. Draco didn't want to get his hopes up, though. He hesitated outside Snape's office. He could have stayed there forever if Snape himself hadn't opened the door.

"Ah…" Snape said. "Draco."

"H-Hello, Profesor," Draco mumbled.

"Come in," Snape told him. " _Potter_ isn't here yet."

Draco sighed internally. He was glad Potter wasn't here, but- Was it weird to be early? Could Potter think that he _wanted_ to be here. That would be scary. Draco had too many thoughts, he decided. He took a seat on a leather armchair and sat still, like he was waiting for the executor to pull the switch. After an uncomfortable about of time, he heard faint knocking.

" _Potter…_ " Snape growled.

Draco turned around slowly. Potter was heading towards him, taking a parallel seat. His green eyes looked surprised and disappointed at the same time.

" _You're late._ " Snape hissed.

"I'm Sorry," Potter muttered. " _Sir_."

"Well," Snape sneered. "I assume you know why you're here, Potter."

"Not really," Potter replied. For a second, Draco admired his nerve. It was only for a second, though.

" _Occlumency_ ," Snape glared. "The art of blocking one's mind from Legilimency."

"What's Legilimency?" Draco asked, without thinking. The mention of minds had made him uneasy.

"The art of breaking into someone else mind."

" _What?"_ No...

"Occlumency is used to prevent someone from invading your mind," Snape said coldly. "That someone will be me… for now."

Snape drew his wand and gazed over the pair.

"Draco will go first."

"W-Why me?" _Dammit._ Draco knew he sounded pathetic, but what else could he do? Everything was so unfair.

"I think you will fair better at this than _Potter_ ," Snape muttered disdainfully. _Liar,_ Draco thought.

"R-Right, sir," Draco muttered.

"Draw your wand," Snape told him. Draco obeyed, staring bitterly at the stone floor.

"Your job is to resist." He said. "It is similar to how you resist the imperius curse."

"Right…"

"Now," Snape sighed. " _Legilimens!"_

Draco felt like he was falling through himself. Images were flashing before his eyes, like phantoms of worn-out photographs. Everything was icy blue and spinning away. His first birthday, the empty manor halls where no one used his name. The lonely nights and sunny days all flashed by. The time he accidentally hurt that little tabby cat, before he knew how to control himself. The sunset when his father cursed him, the morning after when his pale face was violet and bruised and shiny as hell. The emptiness he felt watching death eaters torture muggles over fireworks and smiling faces. The confusion he felt at the Yule Ball when he tried firewhiskey for the first time and kissed Pansy Parkinson behind the rose bushes. The first time he flew a broom. The first time he-

 _No!_

Draco opened his eyes and he was back in the dungeon, curled on the ground and shaking. He realized he'd been screaming, from the terror painted on Potter's face. He breathed in and out, but he couldn't stop the shaking. Snape was staring down at him, with curiosity and disgust twisted into his sallow features. Draco glared at his trembling hands. _Please don't cry,_ He begged to himself. _Please._

"That wasn't bad," Snape said. "For the first time. You managed to block me out once, at least."

Draco didn't say anything. He thought he'd start crying if he opened his mouth.

"You may go."

"W-What?" Draco stammered. "But-"

"Potter will try later." Snape breathed. " _You_ may go."

"Alright, sir," Draco mumbled. He closed the door on his way out.

As Draco paced back to the common room, he wondered what he'd been so desperate to hide. The memories of Occlumency seems blurry and far away. Was it the first time he masturbated? No, that was embarrassing but apparently normal. The first time he cut himself, then? Probably. Draco had never met another person who did that, at least in his _prestigious_ circle. It was bad enough Snape knew that his father liked to curse him. Draco had to improve at this Occlumency thing, just to save his heart.

Authors Note: Ah, that took so long ʕ￫ᴥ￩ʔ. But the stories really gonna pick up from here, so I'll definitely keep updating as often as i can. Thanks for reading


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4-

"Damnit!" Potter shouted, falling against the stone wall.

"Language, Potter," Snape muttered.

It was almost midnight when Draco's second Occlumency lesson drew to a close. He had been in the dungeon for so long, he felt like he was sleepwalking by the end. It was all Potter's fault, he thought bitterly. It took Potter hours just to block Snape out _once_. He just kept falling and getting up, over and over again, until his hands were bruised from catching his falls. It was exhausting. Draco, on the other hand, was getting better with each turn. He was hiding everything that held any meaning to him. The secret, he thought, was being a liar. Or maybe it was being afraid. Either way, it was working.

Draco walked next to Harry on the way up. All the lights were out, except for a faint glow from the artificial starlight ceiling. All the corridors were midnight blue. Draco glanced at Harry Potter. He was scowling down at his muffled footsteps. Draco smiled, just a little.

"Occlumency Isn't that difficult, you know." Draco drawled, tilting his head to the pinprick lights. "You must just be really terrible."

" _Shut up_ , Malfoy," Potter growled, refusing to look up at him. Draco wished he would. He felt lonely as hell all of a sudden. "Just because I'm not a sociopath, like you…"

"I'm not a sociopath," Draco muttered.

"What?" Potter said, daring to look at him for the first time. Even in the midnight gloom, Potter eyes were bright green and so, so full.

"I have _feelings_." Draco felt childish saying it, but he couldn't help it. Whenever he tried to be sincere, he just sounded childish as hell.

"Yeah," Potter scoffed. "Right."

" _Whatever,"_ Draco muttered. He didn't know why he felt so bitter. Emotionlessness was a fitting image for the serpent's son. But being good at Occlumency felt like a curse sometimes. Even when Draco tried to reach out, no one took his hand.

"Well, we have to work on it _together_ tomorrow," Potter said remorsefully. "I guess I'll see if you're human after all."

Draco blushed. He was grateful to the darkness for hiding the rosy color blooming in his cheeks. Blushing was very human, Draco though. He was scared, but he didn't know of what. He didn't know if he was ready to be a human to someone else. It had been so long. Almost forever. His heart was sort of racing. He found himself glancing at Potter every few seconds, not knowing if he wanted him to look back. In the end, they came to the great hall and left each other without a sound. Draco stumbled back to the common room, feeling like a thousand Cornish pixies were waging wars over his insides.

Snape was out of the castle the next day, like he had told Draco he would be in their last lesson. By the time seven came around, Potter was already down, leaning against the locked dungeon door. Draco was surprised. It was the first time Potter had come early.

"He's gone." Potter sighed. "I guess we have to do the lesson anyway."

"I guess." Draco drawled. He'd never admit it, but he was curious to see what the _famous_ Harry Potter had in his mind.

"All the classrooms are locked…" Potter said flatly.

"Here…" Draco said, shifting his feet. "Follow me."

"What?" Potter looked overly-confused. "Where?"

Draco sighed and said, "Just come one."

Draco lead Potter up the twisted stairs, all the way to the bright sunlight halls. He turned around to check if Potter was still there. He was, trailing five feet behind. It was better than nothing, Draco though. Soon the pair came to the front door.

"Why are you going outside?" Potter frowned at him.

"All of the classroom are locked," Draco murmured. " _You_ said so."

"But it's snowing."

"I like the snow." Draco murmured under his breath. Despite Potter's objections, Draco pushed open the heavy doors and the two headed out into the freezing castle grounds. The world was pure white and shining. Draco lead them behind the courtyard, to an empty space near the greenhouses. From there he could see the lonely castle in all it's dead stone beauty. With Potter here, it didn't seem so lonely after all. He still hated Potter, but he had to admit: Potter wasn't like anyone else at the school. Even before he saw inside his mind, Draco knew it was true. Potter just had this melancholy around him. Draco was embarrassed, but it reminded him a lot of himself. Maybe that was why he hated him so much.

"Its fucking freezing." Potter grumbled. In the snow, Potter's face were glowing pink. Draco never realized how much he had changed since first-year. He looked less awkward now. Almost… cute. _Shit._

"Are you _scared_? Draco sneered, gazing upwards at the falling snow.

"Of what?" Potter said. "The snow?"

"N-No." Draco mumbled. He drew his wand at pointed it at the dark-haired boy. "Let's get this over with."

"Right…"

"I'll go first." Draco said quickly. His heart was fluttering again. It was probably just nerves. He never tried Legilimency before. He didn't to fail in front of Potter. It's be too embarrassing. Draco took a deep breath and shouted, " _Legilimens!"_

The snow white scenery was fading too black. Draco's body was slipping away. It was only his consciousness, colliding with Harry Potter's memories. Potter was alone, crying behind some desolate schoolyard. There was shattered glass and bloodstains on his shaking hands. It was a birthday party, only Potter was left out. He was locked inside a closet, watching spiders crawl across his dusty ceiling. At first it was so lonely. Then, everything got so warm. Potter was flying, way into the blue, way the hell above everything. Hundreds of people, all in red and gold, were cheering and screaming his name. They sounded happier than anyone he had ever known. There were dragons, and long nights, and fireworks and so many smiling faces. Everything in the castle looked so beautiful to Potter. Well, except for one thing: Draco Malfoy. Draco watched himself like sneer, and break down at the littlest thing. It was disgusting. All of a sudden, the snowy landscape was burning back into place. Draco felt sick. He just stared at Harry Potter, not knowing what else to do. Potter broke the silence first.

"Are- Are you crying?"


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5-

Potter noticed his tears before Draco did. Hastily, Draco buried his watery eyes in his hands. He glanced at Potter through the gaps in his fingers. He looked blurry and so far away.

"I-" Draco sniffed. "I'm not crying."

"Yes, you are," Potter said flatly.

"I said I'm fine, _alright_!" Draco muttered. Potter didn't say anything after that. After a moment of silence, Draco wiped the tears from his eyes and looked up. Potter was still waiting, with his wand held high.

"W-What are you doing?" Draco stammered.

"I still have to try Legilimency on you."

"But _I_ actually know how to do Occlumency," Draco said. "There's no point in _you_ trying."

"Yeah, we'll see about that," Potter told him. "I'm not the one _crying_ right now."

 _Dammit_ , Draco thought. Why did he always get so weak in front of Harry Potter? He had looked so pathetic inside those memories. The time that hippogriff attacked him, the time that bastard, Professor Moody, turned him into a ferret. Everyone laughed. Potter could never know how much it hurt him. Draco wouldn't let that happen.

"I told you, I wasn't crying!"

Potter sighed and aimed his wand at Draco's pale, flushed face.

" _Legili-_."

"NO!" Draco cried.

Potter stopped suddenly, looking slightly concerned.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

"I-I," Draco whispered. " _I'm not ready…_ "

"I thought you were good at Occlumency?"

"I am!" Draco cried. "Just-"

He stared up at his enemy, into his clear emerald eyes. Potter was always so strong. _I'm pathetic_ , Malfoy thought. If Potter tried to touch him, he knew he'd just fall apart. He was scared. He didn't want Potter to see how scared he really was. Harry Potter was such a brave person, Draco thought. Even after all the suffering he'd been through, he still got back up. Potter could never understand what it was like to be him. What it was like to hate yourself.

"Just leave me alone!" He shouted at the dark-haired boy.

"What's your problem, Malfoy?" Potter snapped back.

"Just fuck off!" Draco spun around, determined to run away from everything. He could feel tears forming in his eyes. He felt all warm and bitter inside. He gasped for breath, but the air was like so cold. It was like freezing water filling up his lungs. _Maybe I'm dying_ , Draco thought. _Whatever._

"Malfoy!" All of a sudden, Draco felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. "Wait!"

"What do you want?" Draco bit.

"Tomorrow!" Potter said. "I want to see you, tomorrow."

"What?"

"If I have to do these lessons, then you do too." He sounded resolute.

'W-Why?" Draco breathed.

"I don't know why," Potter told him. "But since we have to… I want you to try."

Draco turned around, shakily. Potter was still holding on to him, determined not to let go. _Why!?_ What did I do, Draco thought, to deserve this? He coughed slightly, to cover the tears. It came out in a muffled choke. Draco wondered what he must look like now. Was the person he used to be dead, in Potter's eyes?

"O-Okay…" He murmured.

"Thanks, Malfoy."

The common room was still shining in rainbow Christmas lights, only there was no one left around. It was midnight and all the Slytherins were at home, probably falling asleep to the distant sounds of a happy family. Draco felt like the loneliest person in the universe sometimes. It was probably how Potter felt when he spent the holidays in a cupboard under the stairs. Only, Potter had been a kid then. He was all better now. The opposite of Draco Malfoy. Draco sighed and gazed up at the flickering colors. He felt like crying, but the tears wouldn't come. Maybe he could only cry in front of his enemies now. He felt so ashamed. That was what his father always used to call him growing up: fucking shameful. Draco thought he had buried all those bad memories. He didn't want to have to see them anymore.

" _Accio scissors."_ He muttered. A silver pair shot through the fairy lights. Pansy used to use them to cut his hair, back last February, when it grew so long his vision was clouded by pale strands. She had seemed so excited to be near him. He movements were uneven, slow and then so erratic. But she did an alright job in the end. There were a lot of memories inside these scissors, Draco thought. They got really dull after she cut his bangs. Draco had to push extra hard just to draw blood. Eventually, though, ruby beads lined up on his pinkish skin. They looked just like the paper hearts hung on the Christmas tree.

Draco fell asleep on the sofa, buried under the velvet pillows. He woke up when violet sunbeams shone in through the stained glass windows. His cuts looked ugly in the light of day. Draco couldn't believe he'd been so careless. _It doesn't matter anyway_ , Draco thought, _No one's coming down here._ He checked the clock; the needles pointed at 10 o'clock. He'd slept so late. After he washed the bloodstains from his skin and slipped into his school-robes, Draco Malfoy headed out into the new day. The day he dreaded more than anything; The day Harry Potter would try to break him.

Author's Note: Hi guys :) Sorry this chapter is so short, the next one's gonna be a lot longer. It's kind of a slow burn, but I think I'll get to the romance pretty soon.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6-

Draco received an owl that morning, from Potter, with a note that read, _meet me on the seventh floor,_ _across from the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy at midnight._ Draco didn't understand. Why did it have to be at midnight, anyway? He already felt strange, meeting with Potter in secret like this. Where was he taking him? Draco's head was buzzing with thoughts as he walked from the great hall. He spent most of the day in the common room, trying to focus on the fading pages. He couldn't keep his mind of Harry Potter, though.

By eleven, Draco was pacing the empty common room, trying to find a reason to run away. He felt like cutting again. Only, he wouldn't want to have blood on his wrists when he met Potter. No one had ever found out about his self-harm. He didn't intend for Potter to be an exception. Draco found himself hovering around the seventh floor, glancing down the moonlight hallways to see if he was the first to arrive. As far as he could tell, Potter had led him to a blank wall. Was it some kind of joke? Draco thought anxiously. What was the point of it? After a few minutes, he heard footsteps coming from the stairs. Draco ducked behind a tapestry, his heart racing. Through a gap in the painted fabric, Draco saw Potter marching towards the empty space of the wall. Draco gasped- A door was appearing in front of Potter's tall frame. Potter must have heard him, as he turned around and grinned straight thought the tapestry

"Are you hiding?" Potter asked.

"N-No," Draco muttered as he stepped out from behind the tapestry. "How'd you do that?"

"Oh, this is the room of requirement." Potter said casually, "It appears whenever you need it, as whatever you need it to be."

"Huh…"

"Well, C'mon," Potter said as he shoved open the double doors. Draco followed hastily behind. That night, the room became a cozy sort of space, with deep couches, warm blankets, and a pale blue fire. Draco wondered why it turned into such a sweet place. All they needed was an empty classroom, right? Potter took a seat in one of the fluffy couches and patted the space next to him.

"It's better if you're sitting down," Potter said. "In case you fall over or something."

"I know how Occlumency works…" Draco muttered indignantly. After a second, though, he sat down. He was painfully aware of how close Potter was to him. He couldn't look up from his twitching hands.

"Are you ready?" Potter asked softly. Draco wondered why Potter was being so nice to him. It was probably out of pity, he thought bitterly. Malfoy's were not meant to be looked down upon. Maybe it was just out of defiance, but a small part of Draco didn't mind it.

"Y-Yeah…"

"Ok," Potter said reassuringly. " _Legilimens!"_

In an instant, the quiet room was slipping away. Potter was forcing himself inside of his mind. The cold colors of Draco Malfoy's life were burning before Potter's eyes. It started in a pretty sort of place. He was sitting outside the miserably grand manor, playing in these little white flowers. Draco suddenly remembered the cat he used to have, back when he was little and barely understood anything about the wizarding world. It was a small calico one, with a heart-shaped birthmark under its left eye. He had been Draco's first friend. Other than the Death Eater children that hung around the mansion sometimes, Draco had spent his childhood alone. In this memories, he was laying in the soft grass with his cat, watching as it chased butterflies across his belly. It was so bittersweet. A second letter, that sunny day disappeared and was replaced by a dimly-lit parlor scene. Draco's father was towering over him, pointing his wand against his helpless kitten. Draco cried, but his father ignored it. There was a flash of green light and the calico was dead. Draco's father said that Malfoy's should not become so attached to useless creatures. Draco hated to be reminded of these painful things. But it was far from over. The world shifted into a rainy day when Draco was standing listlessly on the outskirts of a party his parents were throwing. After Lucius and Narcissa were done parading their perfect child in front of their friends, they left him all alone. It was so loud. Draco wanted to hide away, but his father's words echoed inside his head. _Malfoy's must never show weakness_. Suddenly, a stranger was standing next to him. He was older, a Hogwarts student, with light brown hair that almost covered his hazel eyes. He grinned at Draco and said, "You don't like it here, do you?" Draco thought of something snarky to say, but the glint in the stranger's eyes told him it was pointless.

"No…" Draco mumbled. "Not really."

"Me neither." The boy drawled. "We should get out of here."

"W-What?"

"C'mon." The boy took his hand and stared right into his eyes.

"O-Ok." Draco didn't know what else to say. His memory was a little murky. One moment he was standing next to the boy, and next he was upstairs, being thrown onto some dusty bed.

"S-Stop it!" Draco cried. "Or else I'll-"

"What'll you do, then?" The boy smirked. "Tell your _father_? Do you think he'll still care about you, when he finds out you're a fag?"

"N-No…" Draco stammered. There was no way out. He clenched his fist and felt the tears burn inside his pale eyes. It hurt. The last thing he saw was the yellow light of the chandelier, casting twisted shadows over the boy's uncaring face. Then he was back in Hogwarts, watching blood stains spiral down the silver drain. This was Draco had been dreading most of all. Potter probably got a good look at the lacerations before the memories ended.

Draco found himself sprawled out on the floor, feeling a sharp pain around the back of his head. He ran his hand through his pale hair and saw blood clinging to his fingertips. Draco wasn't scared. He was no stranger to bloodstains. Potter came running over to his side, looking far too worried.

"Malfoy?" He breathed, "Are you ok?"

Draco didn't say anything. Potter must have thought he was dying or something, cause he picked him up like a tired little kid, and carried him over to the couch. Draco felt faint. Before he knew it, his head was resting on Potter's lap. The other boy was so warm. He used to lie in Pansy's arms all the time. Somehow, this was different. Because Potter was a boy, a boy who probably _hated_ him? No, Draco thought. For once in his life, Draco got the feeling that the person next to him actually cared. It was strange.

"Let me go…" Draco mumbled into the folds of Potter's robes.

"I can't," Potter said. "You'll just pass out if you try to get up. You hit your head pretty bad, you know."

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not," Potter said. "Just tolerate me for a minute, alright?"

Draco nodded, slightly. He wouldn't admit it, but he didn't _want_ to leave. He felt safe here. It had been so long since Draco had felt this way. _So_ long. There was this warm feeling rising inside his body, like the rush me got from cutting, only… This felt so much better. Draco felt like smiling, but he started crying instead.

"Don't look at me…" Draco choked out.

Potter sighed and laid a hand on Draco's back as he shook.

"Its okay," Potter whispered.

"N-No, it's not!" Draco cried.

"I know you're hurt," The dark-hair boy told him. "But I want to help you."

"W-Why? I'd j-just make your life worse. I- I already do…"

"It's not all your fault," Potter reassured him. "I don't think we're that different, you know."

Potter blushed and looked down at him. Draco felt so pathetic all of a sudden. Potter's emerald-colored eyes were filled with pity, and something else he couldn't quite figure out. Draco knew he should sit up, dry his eyes and walk away. Try and salvage some of his self-respect. But Potter's lap was so warm. And still, he couldn't stop crying. Maybe it was just that for the first time in years, someone would let him.

"Look, Draco," Potter mumbled, "I don't like to see people hurt themselves like that. I know we haven't exactly gotten along in the past, but- Maybe we can put that behind us… At least until you feel better."

"T-Thanks." Draco stuttered. "But that's never going to happen. Feeling better, I mean."

"I'm sure if you-"

"No!" Draco squeezed down on one of the velvet pillows. "Nothing's ever gotten better for me. You've seen my fucking memories! I'm just not meant to be happy…"

"But- it's different now."

"How?"

"You have me."

The simplicity of that statement took Draco's breath away.

"You- You hated me until yesterday."

"I guess I never really knew you," Potter said. "Hey, why don't we talk about it in the morning? You can sleep in here if you want. I know you're tired. Things will be better in the morning, I promise."

Draco wanted to trust him. It would be going against everything he had pretended to be, but still. He wanted to believe in the one person who ever said they cared. And he really was tired. The offer of sleep was a nice one. Talking to someone had made him calmer than he expected. He didn't want to think about the night's events just yet. Within minutes, his eyelids were fluttering shut and he was drifting into sleep.

Author's Note: Sorry that one took so long, I've been really busy with school and stuff lately, but I'll try to get the next chapter out a lot faster. Anyway, thanks for reading! Leave a review if you want, it'd be nice.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7-

Draco woke up in the room of requirement, with sunbeams spilling in through the cloudy windows. He blinked and brushed the pale hair out of his eyes. The air was cold, but his body felt so warm. Potter must have put a blanket on him as he slept. _Potter…_ In an instant, last night's events came rushing back into his mind. He, the heir to the Malfoy name, had cried like a little kid in front of Harry bloody Potter. Not just in front of him, actually. He'd wept into Potter's arms for ages. No one had ever held him like that before. Draco blushed and shoved the blanket off. Standing up and glancing across the room, Draco could see that Potter was gone. _What did you expect_? Draco thought bitterly. _That someone could care about you for more than one night?_ Potter was probably telling all his friends that Draco Malfoy was just a crybaby deep down. Draco had seen it coming, but he still felt like crying. Well, seeing as he was already alone… Draco curled up on the messy sofa was cried into his robes for what felt like too long. He was thinking of summoning his silver knife when he heard a creak at the door.

"Merlin's Beard!" It was Potter. _He came back for me_ , Draco thought. It was tragic how happy that made him. Slowly, he looked up from the tear-stained sheets, towards the dark-haired boy in the doorway. He was holding a plate of food and looking bittersweet. "Are you okay?"

"Y-Yeah…" Draco mumbled, sitting up and looking down. "Is that breakfast?"

"Oh, yeah, it's for you." Potter smiled sadly and set the plate gently on the table. "I figured you wouldn't want to go down to the Great Hall, just yet."

"T-Thanks." Draco didn't know what else to say. Potter was hovering by the sofa, looking like he expected something of him.

"You were crying just now," Potter said flatly, sitting awkwardly by his side.

"It's nothing…" Draco muttered.

"It's not nothing, if you're upset," Potter said. "What happened?"

"Nothing, really."

"You can tell me, you know." The other boy whispered. "I'm here for you." He placed his hand on Draco's shoulder. Draco flinched but decided to stay. Potter came back for him, after everything. Maybe he deserved a little piece of his trust.

"I thought you'd left me," Draco said quickly. He was turning a rosy shade of pink by then.

"What?" In a second, all of Potter's tension seemed to have disappeared.

"You _asked_!" Draco cried. "I know I'm pathetic."

"No!" Potter laughed. "It's just… that's sweet."

"I'm not _sweet_ ," Draco mumbled indignantly.

"It's okay," Potter said lightly. He leaned closer to Draco and pulled him into a hug. His body was warm, like the blanket. Draco felt all fuzzy inside. This was the second time someone had really hugged him in five years. Only now did he realize just how lonely he was. It was terrifying. It had only been one night, but he already felt so dependent.

"I won't leave you, Draco." Potter murmured.

"Ok…" He murmured back.

Draco wrapped his hands around Potter's shoulder and faded into his embrace.

"I want to talk about what you're doing to yourself," Potter said cautiously. "The cutting, I mean."

"W-What?" Draco stammered. He'd almost forgot that Potter knew about _that_ now. He knew too much.

"Not now." Potter said quickly, "If you don't want too."

"I don't," Draco muttered.

"Then later." The other boy said, not sternly, but with resolution. Draco figured it was no use arguing with him. He didn't want to push Potter away. He wasn't going to stop cutting, though… He needed it. But he'd have to find a way around that later. In that moment he just wanted to focus on the warmth in Potter's arms, the kindness in his words. "Maybe we should go somewhere else."

"Where?" Draco asked

"You like sitting by the lake, don't you?"

"Yeah…" Draco blushed. "How'd you know?"

"You were there that day, when… when we fought." Potter said, somewhat ashamed. "You looked so lonely. I-I feel really guilty about that now, actually. I shouldn't have hurt you like that, not when you were down."

"No, It's- It's my fault," Draco whispered. "I've always been a dick to you. E-Ever since you rejected me that first time."

"I rejected you?" Potter asked, looking genuinely stunned.

"On the train." He said. "I remember you choose Weasley over me."

"That?" Potter smiled softly. "We were so much younger back then. I didn't know you at all. It's different now."

"Really?" Draco looked up, into the dark-haired boy's endlessly green eyes.

"I think we should get to know each other better," Potter said. "We can go down to the lake, and just talk."  
"S-Sure…"

Together they stumbled down the snowy grounds. It had been snowing all night, so all the flowers and footprints were buried under a white blanket. The sky was pure blue, like they were at the bottom of an icy lake, looking up. It was so peaceful, Draco thought. He smiled to himself, and Potter glanced over in amused confusion. Draco met his eyes, just for a second. He felt happy and embarrassed at the same time. It was weird. He looked over to the other boy and saw that he was still staring at him with those playful green eyes. Draco blushed and pulled his scarf over his mouth. He didn't want Potter to see him grinning like a girl. It was just so strange having someone else to spend time with like this. Someone to hold him when he cried and bring him a warm breakfast and walk with him down these lonely paths. It was almost like they were dating… _No!_ Draco cursed himself for thinking that. He wasn't gay, especially not for Harry bloody Potter. Absolutely not! Still… He didn't want to miss the moments he spent with that boy. As they walked together through the falling snow, Draco wanted to treasure the feeling of looking into the eyes of someone who might actually care.

"What's up?" Potter asked, grinning.

"N-Nothing," Draco told him. "I just like it out here. It's so lonely."

"You like feeling lonely?" Potter said.

"N-No, it's just that in crowded places there are always groups of friends, couples, you know. Happy people. Out here, it's like they all just disappear. It's stupid…"

"No it's not," Potter said warmly. "I get it. I feel that too, sometimes. Like no one understands."

"You do?" Draco said softly. "I- I always thought you were so popular, being the _chosen one_ and everything…"

"I could say the same about you, Mr. Prince of Slytherin."

"S-Shut up…" Draco giggled.

They reached the lakeshore too soon, Draco thought. They walked together along the edge, over the pale space where the water met the snow. The lake lapped in and out, softly eroding the blanket ground. Draco only slipped once, but Potter said it was too dangerous and he needed to hold his hand. Draco couldn't tell if he was being serious or not, but he accepted the offer anyway. He was glad no one was around to see them. From the castle, they would only look like two dark silhouettes against the endless frozen world. Draco didn't want anything to ruin the moment. Potter's hand was sort of chapped and very warm. Draco realized how cold he must feel, but Potter didn't seem to mind. He just smiled and led him down to a quiet space below an old snowbank.

"I used to come here too," Potter told him. "In the fourth year, during the Triwizard Tournament. Back then, It- It felt like the whole world was against me."

"I'm sorry," Draco whispered.

"How many times do I have to tell you to stop apologizing?" Potter said sweetly.

"I can't help it," Draco said quietly. "I just wish everything was different."

"Why?" Potter murmured. "I'm here now. Everything's alright."

 _Oh God._ Draco blushed and tried to focus his eyes on the vacant sky. They were still holding hands, even though they were sitting now and there was no way Draco could fall. _Oh God, Draco through again. I'm not gay, I'm not gay, I'm not-_

"What's wrong," Potter asked, leaning closer to him.

"Nothing!" Draco said, trying to stay cool.

"Ok." Potter smiled. "You know, you're supposed to be telling me about yourself."

"I don't know what to say," Draco whispered.

"Anything."

"I'm cold," Draco said petulantly.

"That's all?" Potter laughed.

"Yes."

"Then…" Potter murmured.

"What?" Draco could barely get the words out. Potter was so close to him now. _Oh God_! His pale, flushed skin. The loose strands of black hair that fell just above his eyes. Harry… Draco was hoping he couldn't see him blushing when suddenly, Potter's lips were against his.

AN: Sorry I've been taking so long to update, I've been kind of stuck on what to write next. I was thinking of doing some chapters from Harry's pov, just to make it more interesting, but I don't know. Let me know what you think. Anyway, thanks to everyone's who's reading. I love you all :)


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